


Echoes of Blue

by st4rtr3nd3r



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: 3rd person pov, Afterlife, Any relationships involving Connor Charlie and Schlatt are platonic only, DadSchlatt, DreamSMP - Freeform, Emotional Hurt, Father-Son Relationship, Funny egg plot has got me thinking, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I have no self control, Lmao imagine paying attention to any of the canon bits, Lullabies, Not Canon Compliant, Of course the minors are also included in that, Resurrection, Schlatt is a good dad please let me live, Skeppy will die but only temporarily, Skeppy: my death was greatly exaggerated, Suicidal Thoughts, Unless Stated Otherwise, dadschlatt but what if TWO adopted sons, die mad, i just thought it might be good to tag just in case, more tags to be added probably, most relationships can be read as platonic or romantic, rated T because skeppy and schlatt like to say fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29483904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st4rtr3nd3r/pseuds/st4rtr3nd3r
Summary: Bad, after freeing himself from the egg's control, realizes quite quickly that he cannot find Skeppy. The server goes on a search for him until they find... him?---Updates will be inconsistent because my inspiration is inconsistent. I plan to upload at least every other day, but please don't get upset with me if I don't! <3
Relationships: Charlie | Slimecicle & Connor | ConnorEatsPants, Charlie | Slimecicle & Connor | ConnorEatsPants & BadBoyHalo, Charlie | Slimecicle & Connor | ConnorEatsPants & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt & Zak Ahmed, Zak Ahmed & Darryl Noveschosch, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 35
Kudos: 56





	1. Quidam | BBH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad frees himself, but something isn't right.  
> \- - -  
> Quidam (n.) an unspecified or inconsequential person.

The silence in the server felt ice cold. The second the egg lost its control, Bad knew something was off. His veins were inexplicably hot and cold simultaneously; the air teetered on the edge of venomous. Bad flapped his wings, staring at the world. Something almost similar to blood hung on the edge of his tongue. He licked lazily at his fangs, glaring at the world. What had him so on edge? He could not put a word to it- but something felt like it was missing in the server. A void settled in the spaces in between his clawed hands, and he growled lowly, his wings twitched, almost as though they had already figured out what was missing. He huffed, sniffing silently before it hit him.

He had no scent of Skeppy, although he should have been able to smell him. He could find people with just his sense of smell, and he considered himself lucky to be a demon. Especially now, as the world crashed around him. He quickly spun his body around, sniffing violently. He felt eyes tear through him, but he continued thrashing about in one spot. His movements grew ever more sporadic. He eventually decided to dash out of his place, breath hitching as he flung his head about. Glowing white rivers cupped his face, sparkling gently against the void. His talons scratched the wood on the ground, leaving small splinters in his skin as he continued sprinting. He let out a gasp for air, running to his shared house in some shaking hope that he’d see diamonds. 

Bad stared at the empty house and whimpered, running around the house uselessly. Bad threw open the closet doors, whining at the sight of all of Skeppy’s clothing being missing. He would have laughed at the whine if it had not been his own. It was so broken and shaky. He let his tail curl around him, and he couldn’t help but let more useless whimpers dance out of his mouth. He laid crumpled on the floor, staring at a single bed with wrinkled sheets. He’d dyed his bed blue, of course. Of course he had. He lifted himself with shaky arms before settling on the almost too small bed. He curled into himself on it, clutching at the blue like a lifeline. 

Though the silence was no longer cold (maybe it had just been cold previously - he couldn’t tell), it still felt just as heavy. It was agonizingly slow as well. He swore that each second seemed to grow ever longer as he laid uselessly on the bed. He eventually stretches his body out, glaring at gentle sunbeams. The world may have just started, but his world just ended. He had to find Skeppy. 

…

What else was he supposed to do?

Bad jumped out of bed, flapping his wings roughly. He was going to force his friends to help him if it meant the life of him. Bad was typically not one for violence, but some situations made him feel there was only one solution. People refusing to help him find Skeppy would definitely be up there with “things Bad was not willing to put up with.” 

He threw his front door open, letting out a demonic screech loud enough to get the attention of the other members. They all knew that his screech meant that they all had to be there right that second. 

It only took two hours for everyone to arrive. Most looked somewhat peeved, and Bad couldn’t blame them. He had woken up most of them, but to his credit, he felt as though he had some right to. They’d lost Skeppy. What else was he supposed to do? Bad swished his tail roughly, cutting a few blades of grass and two dandelions. 

“What is this about?” Bad heard Dream growl out. He also saw George lightly hit his shoulder, earning himself a glare. Dream, however, still only ended up letting out a huff and looking at Bad expectantly. 

“Skeppy’s gone.”

“You called us here because you couldn’t find your boy-” he got another hit to his shoulder, hesitantly deciding to shut up. Bad thwacked his tail on the ground.

“Don’t you think it’s a problem if a demon can’t find him?”

The blanket of realization was not a comforting one. Bad almost wanted to scream, but he managed to keep it lodged in his throat. 

They quickly started planning search parties, but Bad still had a sinking feeling. Like… two-thirds of himself had just disappeared.


	2. Quidam | Skeppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skeppy is lost in a forest, in more than one way.  
> \- - -  
> Quidam (n.) an unspecified or inconsequential person.

Skeppy was, to put it lightly, really fucking done. And really fucking injured. His body hurt, and God was he fucking tired. Leaves and grass crunched like bones beneath his boots, the tip of his boots making lines in the dirt. Skeppy adjusted his backpack, squirming in his dirty clothes. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he’d been walking, but as far as he knew, he only stopped to sleep through the night (and even then, he sometimes skipped a night’s sleep.) 

Skeppy shook his head, lifting his dreary eyes. He needed to get even farther away; he just knew it. Bad wasn’t anywhere near him per se, but he could still see bits of red. They twinkled in and out of existence, so some reasonable part of Skeppy was saying that it was all in his mind. Which, of course, is crazy to say, seeing as Skeppy was most definitely not seeing things. He wouldn’t do that. 

Skeppy huffed, forcing himself into a sprint, hoping idly that the red would eventually disappear. Red used to be his favorite color. It reminded him of Bad. And the thought of Bad was now, well, bad. He chuckled at the convenience of the name, and maybe he should’ve prepared himself better when he literally called him Bad. 

The night echoed around him, and he grew tired of the sounds of mobs roaming. He was low on health and had no food, so the constant reminder that he only had one chance left tugged at his mind. He knew he was worrying over nothing, and he was good at combat. If it came down to it, he could take an arrow or two. Maybe. 

Skeppy, for reasons that were definitely unrelated to his health, began sprinting faster. He started mumbling any swear he could think of, his feet for once finally beginning to burn as he heard arrows whizz by his head. 

“This is my last fucking chance,” he whispered, but he’s not sure why it mattered so much. He doubted anyone would find him this far out. And, not to be some edge lord, he wasn’t sure he or anyone else would care if a few arrows took away his last life. 

Bad had chosen the egg, hadn’t he? 

He knew his life was going to crumble around him with that boy, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Skeppy hadn’t been ready. Maybe it was his own fault; he hadn’t seen any warning signs. He hadn’t seen Bad slipping through his fingertips.

Skeppy took a deep breath and stopped in the middle of the forest. 

Zombies groaned, and skeletons rattled, but he paid them no mind. He stared at the ground, counting every reason that Bad had left him to die.

Number one, he thought numbly.

An egg. 

An arrow hit him in the shoulder.

Number two.

Puffy.

A zombie bit his arm roughly.

Number three.

Unfortunately,

before Skeppy could think of his third reason

An explosion threw him into a tree.

As the world faded

He heard the sound of a demonic screech.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just remember!! That Skeppy isn't actually going to die for real!! That will be revealed in the next Skeppy chapter!! <3
> 
> Also! If you want to follow me on Twitter, here it is!!: https://twitter.com/netheritestar


	3. Pother | BBH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad has a rough week.  
> \---  
> Pother (n.) a commotion or fuss.

The first day had been rough.

At first, Bad had assumed it was because of the stress. He was in a search party with Tubbo, Quackity, and Tommy. They didn’t find a single clue, and the other parties didn’t fare much better. Dream, George, Sapnap, and Karl came back with the news that they had found nothing. Puffy, Charlie, Connor, and HBomb found one of Skeppy’s shirts. All of the other groups gave up five hours in. Bad almost lost his mind when he found out, but a session with Puffy and Quackity made him decide not to do anything. He still had all the others looking. 

He laid in bed for hours, unable to sleep, a pain slowly burrowing itself into his chest.

The second day had been even less eventful than the first.

None of the three search parties find a thing. Not a footprint, a shirt, nor a note. Bad had to go home early, the pain in his chest growing ever stronger. He laid once more in his bed, soon writhing in pain as Puffy stayed beside his bed. 

This was when he knew what had happened.

He let out another demon screech, hoping it was loud enough to gather his friends.

By the third day, everyone gathered around Bad’s bed. He was still uselessly writhing, with Puffy desperately trying to help him. Bad stretches his wings and whines childishly, his heart burning evilly. His eyes felt like they were lit on fire while his skin felt ice cold. He writhed for a few minutes before mustering up enough strength to speak. 

“He’s gone,” Bad coughed out, flexing his wings before wrapping himself up in them. 

The realization of what would happen to Bad settled in the silence.

Dream left, holding Sapnap and George roughly by the arms, leaving quickly. Most people left in silence soon after. 

The fourth day was the hardest.

Bad had been sobbing all day, and no one came to visit. The pain shocked him in waves that never seemed to be in rhythm. He was shaking and screaming all day. Sobs marked the in-betweens of the shocks of pain. He fell in and out of sleep, just wishing the torture would stop sooner.

The fifth day was manageable.

The bed was warm, and someone came into his room that day. Though it hurt much worse physically, it was nice having someone there. Even if it was just Charlie (he hadn’t met the guy, but he was sweet. He must have noticed that no one else came.)

Charlie told many puns (Bad would have laughed if he wasn’t sobbing) and told him stories about where he used to live. He seemed happy about it, and though Bad could barely understand him, he couldn’t help but smile with him. 

Charlie left him a single cornflower before he left.

The sixth day was nice.

His body felt like it was trying to turn inside out, but Charlie came back. He told him he brought an old friend, and Bad had recognized him. He helped him do… something. Bad’s memory wasn’t great right now. His name was Connor; he was pretty sure. Connor was wearing a funny onesie, but he seemed comfy. 

The onesie reminded him of Skeppy’s duck onesie. 

Connor and Charlie mostly talked to each other, which was fine with Bad. It’s not like Bad could say much in response to what they were saying. Connor and Charlie sat on the edge of his bed, talking in mostly inside jokes that Bad could not understand.

Somehow, the two had managed only to make Bad need to say language once.

The seventh day was heavenly. 

Charlie and Connor returned that day. They did the same thing they had the previous day, but a little more somber. It felt like the realization that he was going to die was finally getting into their minds.

But, while they were talking, the pain suddenly vanished.

At first, Bad thought that it meant he had died. 

He blinked, tears still cascading down his face. He scrunched his nose up, growling lowly at seeing just… his room.

Charlie and Connor looked at him oddly. 

Bad sat up, pressing his fingers to his left wrist, where he could feel Skeppy’s heartbeat.

It beat rhythmically and gently under his fingertips.


	4. Pother | Skeppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skeppy walks through the afterlife.  
> \---  
> Pother (n.) a commotion or fuss.

Skeppy woke up to the most boring afterlife he could’ve ever fucking imagined.

Like, actually boring.

He thought maybe he’d see scorching flames or fluffy clouds.

But it was just.

Blue and indigo swirls.

Everything was colored the same, and the world was infinite.

He’d been walking for a few days; he was pretty sure.

(He could’ve been wrong, there was no sun and no moon.)

His feet ached (you could get hurt while dead? That fucking blows, at least give him a break when he’s goddamn dead!), and his head hurt. It was really bright, though the blues and indigo were all desaturated. 

The overwhelming loneliness only settled in on the fourth day. 

It was uncomfortably quiet, wherever he was. 

There were no hints of other people, even though he was certain he wasn’t the only person or thing that was dead. 

On the fifth day, he ran into a familiar face. 

Well, kind of familiar.

He heard Bad mention him once or twice, but all he knew was that most people widely disliked him. His name was stuck somewhere in his brain, and he couldn’t quite reach it.

The man turned to him, raising an eyebrow. His suit was finely tailored, and he had ram horns, ram ears, and a ram tail. 

He kind of reminded him of Tubbo. 

“Who are you?” Skeppy was the first to speak, tilting his head to the side as he looked up at the man. 

“Schlatt,” the man- Schlatt replied his voice almost monotone. He seemed to fit his whole businessman persona. Although the ram parts sure took away from the professional thing (was he a furry?) 

Skeppy rocked on his heels and hummed, pondering his next move. Schlatt looked him up and down.

“You’re down all three lives,” Schlatt spoke softly, “How come? You hadn’t lost any last I checked, and that couldn’t have been more than a month ago.” 

Skeppy chuckled nervously, rubbing his neck.

“Unlucky in exploring?” Skeppy supplied, tapping his pointer fingers together (he’d seen Bad do it once, and he picked up on it as a good way to de-stress.)

Schlatt cocked an eyebrow but didn’t push for more information.

“What were you looking for?”

Skeppy held his breath at the question. It’s almost as if he knew that was going to make him nervous. He stared at him boredly, almost judgmentally, as he racked his brain for a reason.

“I guess… to just get away.”

“From Bad?”

Skeppy pursed his lips.

Schlatt turned away and started to wander off, Skeppy chasing him soon after.

They walked in silence for the rest of the day.

On the sixth day, Schlatt spoke up again.

“I have a life left.”

“Yeah, Bad mentioned it. Said he didn’t know why you weren’t back yet.”

“I wasn’t having fun anymore,” he shrugged, “having a mental breakdown like that was rather tiresome. Although I have been watching the world, somehow, I feel as though my presence might… fuck up something. I already made enough disruptions in my life; I’d rather wait until I wouldn’t cause too much trouble to go back.”

Skeppy looked at their feet as they walked. 

“Why did you mention it?”

“I’m still thinking about that.”

Skeppy and Schlatt sat down by a hole soon after their conversation ended. Skeppy peered down the hole, his face going pale as he saw Bad. 

Bad had been in so much pain (and there were two people with him - only two, and neither of them really even knew him.) Schlatt stared blankly at the scene.

“You two were soulmates, huh?”

Skeppy nibbled on his bottom lip until he tasted blood (he already forgot that he could get hurt here, huh?)

“Uh, yeah.”

“Those kinds of deaths are the worst, y’know. They simultaneously burn you alive and freeze you to death. It’s meant to be torturous for a month before the person dies.”

Skeppy almost screamed. Bad was going through torture because he died? It wasn’t right (especially since Skeppy had kind of chosen to die.) Skeppy wrapped his arms around his legs and whimpered, making Schlatt look over at him. Schlatt looked away quickly, staring at the small heart on his chest.

“I still have a life left,” Schlatt mumbled, “And… I can give you half of it.”

Skeppy looked at him, his jaw hanging open.

“You- you can DO that?”

Schlatt nods. “It’s- well, it’s not great. You’ll, uh, you’ll lose most - if not all - of your memories, except those that are strong enough to make it through the process. Most people don't have those kinds of memories, though. Even if they had a soulmate.”

Skeppy sits with him silently after that.

Skeppy knew what his answer was going to be. No matter how many reasons he could tell himself that he shouldn’t (Bad would be heartbroken if he lost his memory, especially if he forgot him.) But, at the end of the day, Skeppy couldn’t let Bad live like that.

On the sixth day, he shakes Schlatt’s hand. Blinding light envelopes the two, burning their hands as they stood in complete silence.

Skeppy wakes up in a forest, a ram-like man with a blue sweater and black skinny jeans sitting beside him.


	5. Torpid | BBH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Found his mans again, but now he's disappointed.  
> \---  
> Torpid (adj.) mentally or physically inactive; lethargic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry got sick and I'm barely not dizzy enough to be able to type my silly little words so if it's bad it's because I am sick L

Bad flapped his wings excitedly, dragging Connor and Charlie with him through the forest. In his own excitement, he’d forgotten to tell the others that he was, surprisingly, not going to die.

Oops.

No time to dwell on it now; the trio had a man to find! Bad couldn’t contain his grin as he sprinted in between the trees, desperately sniffing the air.

It had taken around a month for Bad to find Skeppy’s scent. It was slightly rotten, although it made sense in some sick way. Bad squawked like a bird and grabbed Connor’s hand, pointing in the direction they needed to go. Connor rolled his eyes, getting Charlie’s attention away from the water so they could follow Bad.

“You’re pretty excited there, Bad,” Charlie chuckled, “I guess you could say the situation is good.” Connor scoffed, lightly hitting Connor on the back of his head while he giggled.

Bad rolled his eyes at the friends, smiling warmly before dashing off again. Charlie gasped at his speed, struggling to keep up while Connor mumbled something along the lines of “Gotta go fast!” although Bad had no evidence to say that was actually what he said. Maybe he was hearing things.

Connor and Charlie continued joking, struggling to keep up with the demon’s quick pace. It took around another week, but they were eventually so close that Bad could basically feel him! Bad let out a soft purr as he got ever closer, picking up on another scent nearby him. He didn’t recognize it, choosing not to question it because, oh goodness, he was going to see Skeppy again!

Bad flapped his wings and continued sprinting, quickly landing them in front of a small cottage. Bad tilted his head to the side, the other nearby, while Skeppy seemed to be coming closer. The person seemed to be in the cottage, so he figured he shouldn’t knock on the door because it wasn’t Skeppy.

He waited patiently as he picked up on a person softly singing as they got nearer.

“No matter where I go, with Susie, May, or Anna~ I want the world to know, I must have my-” Skeppy cut off his song, screaming when he bumped into Charlie. Bad sighed, realizing Charlie had escaped and managed to make Skeppy bump into him. Skeppy perked up, and Bad was pretty sure that he realized Charlie didn’t mean any harm.

“Oh- Hi! Who’re you?” Skeppy grinned, holding his hand out.

“Charlie! You?”

“Skeppy! It’s so good to meet you! Let me get Schlatt. I bet he’d like to meet you and your friends, too!” Skeppy grinned, adjusting his headbox and knocking on the door five times quickly.

Schlatt walked out sluggishly, yawning into the sleeve of his sweater. He lazily rubbed his eyes, mumbling something to Skeppy, making the other laugh.

Skeppy grabbed Schlatt’s hand and walked over, making the ram sigh.

“‘m Schlatt,” he yawned again, scratching behind his ears. Bad held his breath, waiting for Charlie and Connor to react. It took a few seconds, but the two ended up screaming and running over to hug Schlatt. Schlatt paused, blinked, and then hugged them back.

“Uh- hi?”

“Schlatt, it’s been so long! How’re you doing, man?” Connor grinned, ruffling his hair while Charlie tried to smack his hand away.

Schlatt chuckled, “Uh, sorry, I don’t. Recognize you. Are we friends?” Charlie and Connor faltered before perking up again.

“OH! Yeah, that makes sense actually,” Charlie chuckled, apparently understanding something that Bad did not. Heck, even Connor seemed to know! Bad grumbled, going to go to talk to Skeppy. Skeppy smiled up at him, holding out his hand.

“Hi! I’m Skeppy. You’re Bad, right? Connor said something about a Bad being with them,” Skeppy grinned, messing with the skirt around his waist. Bad blinked, looking down to see what Skeppy was wearing.

Instead of his typical oversized hoodie and black jeans, he was wearing a light blue cropped hoodie with a black turtleneck under it and a black skirt at his waist that ended up just below the middle of his thighs. He was holding a flower basket with his other hand. Bad blinked, looking back up at Skeppy. Skeppy chuckled, moving his hand down.

“Sorry, I guess I knew you before, then? Schlatt said that I wouldn’t remember much…” Bad sighed, looking away.

“Y-yeah, we were friends. You died, right? I- uh- I felt it. We’re soulmates… How did you come back?” Skeppy slouched before jumping back up.

“We can just try again, right?! If we’re soulmates, we’re meant to be, right?” Bad internally groaned at the ignored question.

Skeppy took off his headbox, grinning up at him. Bad blinked, staring at the single diamond in the middle of Skeppy’s forehead. He trailed his eyes down, holding back a gasp.

“Uh, is something wrong with my face?”

_“You have ram ears, Skeppy.”_


	6. Torpid | Skeppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skeppy is stressed, but doing his best. Schlatt is willing to kill a man. Unfortunately, he won't.  
> \---  
> Torpid (adj.) mentally or physically inactive; lethargic.

Skeppy chuckled. “Yeah, do you like them? I’ve had them since I can remember. Which- to be fair- isn’t that long now that I think about it…” Skeppy let his eyes wander as he finished his last thought before refocusing back on Bad and giggling a bit, “Sorry, I got distracted for a second! Did I not have ram ears before I died?”

Bad blinked, flicking his tail out and gaping at Skeppy still. Skeppy played with his skirt, squirming under the other’s stare. God, that was uncomfortable. Did he really look that different? Maybe it was the grayed skin (which he noted was much more desaturated than Charlie or Connor’s, but similarly desaturated to Schlatt’s), or perhaps it was the lifeless eyes. He did sort of look like a walking corpse, he supposed. Schlatt said it was normal for people in their situation. 

Being half alive and half dead was… strange, to be sure. Schlatt said he had half the life to live and half of his original hit points (granted, Skeppy didn’t even know what he meant by that, but at this point, he chose not to question Schlatt.) He didn’t get tired, at least not really. He had double the endurance as he used to. Schlatt said it made him a great predator, but Skeppy more so felt like prey. Especially under Bad’s gaze. Skeppy felt his ram tail flick about under his skirt; he lowered his ears, letting them flick gently against the diamond horns that curled around them. Schlatt glanced over, letting out a low growl before walking over.

Schlatt wrapped his arms around Skeppy, pulling him into his chest. He glared at Bad, almost daring him to move or say something to challenge him. Skeppy giggled, swatting at Schlatt.

“S-stop! Your mutton chops tickle!” Skeppy giggled out, making Schlatt roll his eyes. He lifted his head so it wasn’t touching Skeppy but continued to glare at Bad. Schlatt by himself wasn’t intimidating, not in the least! At least, Skeppy didn’t think he was. Schlatt was kind of a goober, a protective goober, but a goober nonetheless. 

Something about him made Bad terrified, though. He quickly took a step back. And then several more. Skeppy tilted his head to the side, looking at the demon oddly. He’d never seen such a panicked look before, except for that one time when Skeppy got hurt while exploring. Schlatt had been protective ever since.

Now that Skeppy thought about it, that actually did make sense. He thought Schlatt was just weird, but now that he actually decided to use some brain cells, he realized he didn’t want him to die. Skeppy was rather clumsy, but he was the only one really good at collecting resources. Schlatt was good at building, not fighting or knowing what he even needed to collect in the first place. Skeppy patted Schlatt’s arm, telling him that he was okay. Schlatt huffed, letting him go but still standing at his side. Skeppy patted his hair, chuckling at how fluffy it was, before running off to talk to Bad again.

Skeppy could feel Schlatt staring at them, even when he heard him pick his conversation up with Charlie and Connor again. 

Skeppy picked his conversation up with Bad again, but the man seemed distant. Skeppy didn’t think he was that different (although he didn’t have any knowledge of what he was previously like to back that up.) Skeppy sighed eventually, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Why are you here?” Bad blinked at the question.

“Huh?”

“I asked why you’re here. You obviously had a reason; now spill before I go get Schlatt to scare you again,” Skeppy puffed out his cheeks, rocking on the balls of his heels.

“I- We wanted to take you home.” Skeppy chuckled a bit at that.

“To your home? I live here with Schlatt. It’s my home. I,” Skeppy bit his lip, changing his sentence, “If Schlatt wants to move, we will. If he doesn’t, I’m not coming with you. I’m sorry if we used to be friends, and I’m sorry if either of us did something to hurt people; I’m not your friend. Your Skeppy may have been, but I’m not. I don’t even fucking know you! I know that your name is probably Bad, and I know that you look like a goddamn demon, but there’s not much else! I can’t work with you if you refuse to work with me! I know that it hurts to see a friend lose his knowledge of anything like this, but if you truly loved him, you’d put some effort into talking to me rather than staring through me at a man I no longer fucking am!” Skeppy ended up shouting at the end, prompting Schlatt to hug him protectively again. Skeppy buried the back of his head into his chest and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath in, listening to Schlatt softly count. 

“Breathe through your nose, four seconds, you’ve got this,” Schlatt mumbled, starting to count. Skeppy nodded, taking a few tries to get the first four seconds. 

“You’re doing great, Skep, hold for seven,” Skeppy held his breath for the seven seconds Schlatt counted. 

“You’re almost done with the first round; you’re doing great. Release for eight, and keep following my counting,” Schlatt counted to eight before starting over at four. It took around five rounds for Skeppy to calm down enough to think clearly. He felt his anger and stress melt away, curling into Schlatt’s chest.

“Thanks,” Skeppy mumbled, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around Schlatt. Schlatt chuckled a bit, picking him up and bringing him inside. 

“You wanna take a nap? I can talk to Bad and the rest while you’re out.” 

Skeppy nodded, letting Schlatt tuck him into bed. Schlatt got up to leave, but he grabbed his wrist. Schlatt sighed, sitting down next to his bed.

“Do you want stories or a lullaby?” Schlatt asked softly.

“Mmm.. lullaby. It’ll be faster.” 

Schlatt chuckled, beginning to sing Skeppy to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, if you're wondering what lullaby Schlatt sings here it is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mlmhMS_luX8 
> 
> aLSO YES FINALLY I GET TO WRITE DADSCHLATT BABY LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
> 
> I know he's usually tubbo's dad but let me live and do whatever I please 


End file.
